I Wanna Lose Control For About 15 Mins
1.Rodd Keith "Little Rug Bug"
2.Arthur Russell "Make 1,2"
3.Don Blackman "Loving You"
4.Gary Wilson "I Wanna Lose Control"
Who is the Happy Harry Hard On of blogging? Who is the Judas Priest of the web? Convincing 14 year olds to kill their parents and / or themselves. Its an element that is definitely missing in cyber space. Fucking stupid, Cyber Space. Do you ever think you are an idiot for being so committed and reliant upon something called “Cyber Space” for your information and entertainment? Or, something that is often referred to by using a “surfing” analogy?
I do. I think to myself, a lot actually, that this is very fucking lame. When it comes to music, it really bugs me. My pal Masse and I were having a discussion about this the other day. Its like, how are people really enjoying and experiencing music? Taking risks? Getting to know the music first, before the hype or the stupid fashion? Hearing the record before they read thousands of reviews and partially squeezed opinions, that by human nature, create predjudices? I used to buy the most random shit when i was younger. Spending hours in the record store and unable to decide. There were things i wanted, but i felt like i was cheating myself or missing something by just picking up something I already knew about. Like, it was an easy out or something. Whatever I picked up, I took it home, loved it, hated it, it didn’t matter. I formed an organic relationship with the album and its songs and art work. When I loved it, it was often really funny, I would hear this great record, and months later read about or see pictures of the dudes and they would be the corniest motherfuckers ever. And more often than not, it didnt really matter. If I was making the effort to read up on, or find out more about said band or album, i was probably really fucking into it. If I would have read that interview or article prior to my purchase I would have never picked it up. And shit, even if I did pick it up, getting over the visual of some rim job with a gold hoop, bowl cut, and a Mickey Mouse shirt, talking about how heavy shit got in the studio it would have never left me. I would've been listening to that album from a very corrupted place.
I’m sick of reading about bands. Listening to FREE CLIPS. Reading some jerk off bloggers witty review. Starring into fancy fucking websites. I want to go to the record store, and buy an album I’ve never heard about. Based on instruments listed, or really great cover art. I don’t want to know the label, the drummer, the lead singer. I dont want to know what their favorite bands are, or who they've been touring with. I want to take that bitch home, and listen from beginning to end with headphones, and only know the music.
I really hate sounding like some motherfucker that’s just bitter or out of touch, but come on. Music used to make me want to fight, music made me wanna fuck, music made me wanna play music, music made me wanna get fucked up. Sometimes when i was already fucked up, it would make me want to get even more fucked up. It could turn a really bad time into a really great time, and good into bad. And this was all from just listening. I didn’t know bios, or political stances (unless it was a topic on the record), I didn’t know if the motherfuckers collected ceramic dolphin figurines, serial killer memorabilia or soilded panties, and I didn’t give a fuck. Still don’t really. (Well, collecting soiled panties would probably be a great seller for me honestly. That would be one hell of a dude to boast that shit.)
Its good to be inspired by a persons art. Not their persona, which I think is too often whats happening. Of course there are special cases where the two go hand in hand, and a persons vibe and charisma is undeniable, but you should accept guidance in its natural, uncontrived form when its presented to you. Be thankful if you find it, and accept that you probably need it.
I mean, sometimes all you had to do was play a song in a girls presence and they would think you were “trying to tell them something”. It was too easy to put off the wrong vibe on a first date just by flipping the tape over and shit. Your ass had to be careful about what songs you put on a mix tape if it were for the opposite sex, or they might think it was a love letter on cassette. Hell, step out of context on a mix tape and you would make somebody think “Goddamn, this motherfucker got problems". They might not talk to you for a while after that. Its happened.
But, to wrap up this tired ass entry, there is nothing wrong with music or media today. There is good shit out there. Sincerity, is everywhere. Its just, the complacency of our youth, and society in general. Nothing is sacred. Everything is ironic. How did being sincere, and genuine become corny? How did, saying what you mean directly become weak? When did dancing, just because the song is hot get played out?
Look man, I ain’t shit, and I’m totally cool with that okay. This is just my hyper romanticized point of view, based on my relationship with music, love, and life, in contrast to the people i have been around over the last few years, and things i read. Which, my history is a pretty pathetic one to say the least in most cases, so dont get it twisted. I've always been lost, and I'm still pretty lost. If you think you've found the way, you are probably worse off than most. But goddamnit, open up your fucking hearts, and let yourself love something. Dance in public. Enjoy Phil Collins because that motherfucker is real. Spend more time on your About Me section, and less time filling in band names on the Music section of your Myspace if you know what i mean.
Okay, and speaking of Myspace. 95% of the bands on this forum are fucking crazy. I found this today, on a bands page that lives in my city. I went to school with one of these assholes littles sisters. Anyway, this is how they describe themselves "The sub-sonic mixture of rock, pop, trance, and hip-hop gives us a form of music we like to call Terrestial Rock!" Im sorry, i really have nothing clever to say in respose to this. It speaks for itself.